


Lonesome

by Berty



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_aprilfools, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-06
Updated: 2007-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berty/pseuds/Berty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes sorry just isn't enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonesome

It was dark before the moon rose. There might be a thousand million stars up there tonight, but they cast no shadow and just made him feel colder. More alone.

He had no way of knowing how long he had been here, it was night for twenty hours at a time at these latitudes and at this time of year. It had been dark when he'd got here and it was dark now – and it felt like eternity. The snow gave beneath him when he walked, fresh fallen and pristine in the flatness of the starlight, but he had nowhere to go and his tracks bore mute witness to the aimlessness of his path.

If he could undo this, he would. If there were a way to apologise and return things to the way they had been, nothing would have deterred him from doing so. But the anger and the disgust he'd seen in those eyes had been so hard, so certain – there was no way back for him this time.

He should just lie down and save his strength. Perhaps it would help him to last a few hours longer – give them longer to find him – if anyone was even looking. He lay down, barely registering the coldness of the ground, closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

The sound of boots roused him, squeaking across the snow toward him. He dragged himself into a sitting position, weak and heartsick, and watched Ben approach.

Ben stood in front of him for a few seconds, then sat down on the snow at his side.

"You've done it this time, you know," he said wearily. "Sometimes you stun me with your thoughtlessness."

Dief hung his head.

"Ray spent all day making that cake. His prowess in the kitchen can hardly be called… well, suffice it to say that it was not his first attempt."

Dief placed a hopeful paw on Ben's knee.

"I don't know, Diefenbaker. He's very angry – incensed even. Apparently a birthday without a birthday cake is like Abbot without Costello, Simon without Garfunkel…" Ben thought for a moment, "Hot dogs without…"

Dief moaned.

"Exactly!"

Ben stared out across the starlit snow, his breath an even puff of white, rising, then lost in the night sky.

"Honestly, he was talking about wolf-skin mitten liners. I've never seen him so agitated." Ben sighed deeply, then got up, brushing the powder off his pants. "Well, there's nothing else for it. You'll have to sleep in the barn tonight and tomorrow we'll see if he's calmed down enough for you to show your face."

Dief got up and padded at Ben's side as they walked back to the house.

"No Diefenbaker, I will not be sleeping with you in the barn."

Dief whimpered.

"Because it's _you_ that's in trouble, not me. Besides, it's my birthday."

Dief barked.

"No, not yet."

Dief whuffled.

"You can keep your speculation as to my present to yourself, thank you very much."

Dief licked his muzzle and yawned.

"Your language leaves much to be desired, Diefenbaker. I bid you pleasant dreams and if you should interrupt us before we come out for you in the morning, I shall not only allow Ray to render your pelt into something useful, I will assist him in the endeavour wholeheartedly. Goodnight."

Dief stood and watched Ben, still blushing, walk stiffly back to the house and close the door behind him. He sniffed and sauntered over to the barn – he'd probably get more sleep out here tonight anyway. He might not be able to hear them, but the vibrations through the floor once they'd got started were enough to wake the dead. And he never enjoyed spending time with Ben's dad.

Fin


End file.
